Killer in the Hallway
by Casketta
Summary: Sometimes Saruhiko wonders where he stands in this mess he's made, but he knows he's not the one who has to clean it. Deathfic
1. Killer in the Hallway

Killer in the hallway, we're living on a set time

_Sometimes Saruhiko wonders where he stands in this mess he's made, but he knows he's not the one who has to clean it._

The bluet stands in a room by himself, dim-lit by just a very simple lamp. He's just standing at home, still dressed in that ridiculous Sceptor4 uniform and he's _shaking_ because he doesn't know where he's gone wrong.

He racks his head, but no solution comes to mind- but he knows it's still not his fault.

He feels no sense of empathy, something that he finds alienates himself from the rest. When his parents died, he didn't even go to the funeral- instead he simply went out to grab some food and wander around the city. Izumo told him that he should have gone, that he should have felt sorry for them, to cry like any other person would.

He is not any other person.

Perhaps that was one of the things he may have picked up on. Saruhiko's great at analyzing the world around him, deciding if he likes it or not- but he can't read _himself_. He knows who he is at least, he's arrogant and over confident, he seeks out power because that makes him feel something in the world, he lies- perhaps too much- and yeah, maybe the only time he ever feels something is when Misaki is standing right in front of him spewing that hatred he found in himself.

For those short few minutes, Saruhiko's heart actually feels like it's beating and when it beats it _races_ at the thought of pinning that ginger down.

Alright, well maybe he was those things- but that was not his fault. Saruhiko's brain racks to try and find someone to blame, eyes darting around the small room and suddenly they lock on that old family portrait he has. That so called family he had longed for was still dead, still gone and even Homra could not satisfy him.

He picked the frame up and threw it against the wall, watching the glass shattered and it's almost like it mirrors him. In a way that photo is _mocking_ him because he could have had that family with Misaki and the rest of the guys. It's his jealousy that destroyed his own happiness- No! It's not his fault, it's Misaki's, it's Mikoto's- it's everyone's fault.

A dagger is thrust into that picture and Saruhiko watches it flame and burn itself to nothing more than ash. Perhaps it goes farther than ash because it's evaporated and Saruhiko wishes his problems could be dealt like that.

His hands are shaking as he tries to run through his head, trying to find a part of his childhood where someone forced him into this way. He was never abused, just neglected- and that neglect caused him to act out with Misaki. It's those so called parents of his, the ones who hardly looked at their and when they did his smiling face was met with nothing with expectations.

Rebelling seemed natural to the child, him and Misaki -_his precious Misaki_- and him running through the streets during class, beating up whoever they could to gain their ground, their turf. It all came crashing down one day when the assholes they fought brought back up and their asses were saved by Mikoto, by that disgusting Red King who doesn't need to lift but a finger for all the power in the world.

Saruhiko loathes him more than he lets on.

He joined Homra for Misaki because he didn't want the ginger to go crazy with that power but he was the one they needed to watch, to observe and to make sure he didn't get drunk like the first time. He gets drunk the second, third, fourth time to the point where it's the power that washes his brain away. That was it- but with power brought fear, and oh did Saruhiko enjoy the fear he could see his those faces of his victims, who would scramble to beg on their knees for their lives.

He liked killing them the most.

Misaki's eyes had been turned at that point, instead of his only friend helping him he turns away- turns away to that _bastard_ of a man, the all so mighty Mikoto Suoh. Saruhiko did everything he could, trying to regain the attention of his best friend- but it was lost.

He's alone.

Saruhiko then decided that he couldn't have Misaki's love anymore, he had been replaced- ripped off like a sticker from a child's hand and replaced by something much better. It burns in his chest when he thinks about it because of that ginger would have given him the patience instead of being caught up in his new abilities this would never have happened. The bluet does everything he can, getting himself into stupid situations to be rescued by that knight in shining armor.

It's Mikoto. Every. **Single**. **_Time_**.

So, in front of their entire clan, their entire "family" Saruhiko burns his own Homra mark, practically announcing that he was leaving them for Sceptor4. Panic, shock and anger flare within the group but it's Misaki who attacks him first. There's a sense of emotion that rips through him, one that is not shallow like the rest he feels and they fight it out- Saruhiko's speed and agility versus Misaki's brutal strength.

He wins.

So here he is, contemplating everything he's ever done just to wonder what's wrong with him. It's taken nineteen to understand that something's finally wrong- but is he too late? Munakata likes to say he's irresponsible, unmotivated, lacks any goals, has a juvenile record, lives off the means of others and most important- he lacks any control when it comes to that ginger. Saruhiko can't tell if he wants to kill Misaki for abandoning him or hold onto him again because he has no one to turn too.

To him, he feels different but to most- everyone tells him he's_ sick_ and Saruhiko is not sick. He knows it for a fact- sickness is hearing voices or being paranoid and he's never experienced either. Munakata likes to tell him he needs to sit down with a therapist and Saruhiko enjoys shoving a finger in his face and telling Munakata in that low bored tone that he needs no one.

It's like Saruhiko's standing in a mess of a room, contents split everywhere, littering the room in perhaps a mix of blood and destruction he's left in his wake. The hearts he's ripped out, the people he's hurt and maybe he sees himself as a teenager standing in front of him, telling him that he didn't want this- all he wanted was a future with his best friend.

But Saruhiko always finds someone to blame for his problems anyway. It'll never truly be his fault- ever- because the things he's been through were never something he wanted in the first place. He never told his parents to neglect him, he never told Misaki to befriend him, he never told himself that he'd find his own self at the end of the line, staring at a figurative sign with two streets forking into dark paths.

To hell, or to chaos?

Saruhiko gladly chooses chaos

He chooses chaos amongst death- he has no one to die for anyway. Dying meant that he'd lose that small spark of chaos that seems to seek him out- that little ginger. Misaki wouldn't care if he died right? Good. Saruhiko wants to die by his ex-best friends hands because it's then that Misaki can realize what he's done wrong. Saruhiko shakes his head at that thought, that was untrue. His ginger would run back to Mikoto like a _dog_ to an owner while that bastard could easily kill everyone already with that broken sword.

Sooner or later that dam will break and the Blues and Reds will got at each other, hungry to spill blood with inspiration to emerge victorious. Saruhiko now realizes that he's suddenly not in that room, but on that very battlefield with Misaki standing in front of him, looking as arrogant as possible.

Something snaps_— _that's an understatement actually. Saruhiko takes one look at that face and breaks in two. His mind is gone as he suddenly throws his head back and laughs, laughs to the point where some of the Homra and Sceptor4 members stop fighting to look at him. Let them look, let them look at the broken soul that's standing there, bloodthirsty and torn.

"So, come to kill me?" He asks, his voice low but holding that undertone of childishness- Misaki shivers and suddenly he realizes something is wrong. Very wrong. "Tch, hell yeah! You're a fucking traitor to us!"

"How unfortunate that you're here to kill me, yet you can barely touch me from our last fight. How's the shoulder?" Suddenly another chill runs up Misaki's spine and he slowly starts to realize something here. Saruhiko was never like this- this cool and composed body has only lost composure, truly lost it once when he betrayed them. And he was acting in the same manner.

Were they connected?

The ginger realizes he needs to buy time and quickly so he glances about, not noticing that Saruhiko has those two daggers in his hand. "Fuckin' great- actually!" He spits, but then he's frozen.

It's the look that Saruhiko gives him that freezes him entirely. It's multi-layered, like he's protecting himself- protecting himself from him. What the fuck?!

"Go on then, kill me. See if you can succeed- can you kill someone like _me_ Misaki?!" There's no sing song tone in that voice and those orange-brown eyes scan about, seeing even the members of Sceptor4 look as horrified as he does. So he's not alone on this.

And it's Saruhiko's screams that pierce his ears and knocks him out of that phase. "Are you _**FUCKING LISTENING**_ TO ME?! DO IT- _TRY_ TO KILL ME THEN. OR ARE YOU GOING TO PUSSY OUT- BACK AWAY AND RUN BACK TO MIKOTO LIKE THE FUCKING _PUP_ YOU ARE?!" It jolts Misaki and rattles his entire being and suddenly he's scared.

It's Fuse who tries to calm Saruhiko down, but the idiot gets two daggers right into chest. Before anyone can do anything, it's that same bluet who trips him and puts a foot on one of those daggers. "This is YOUR fault! ALL. YOUR. FUCKING. FAULT. MISAKI." He shouts again, digging that dagger deeper into Fuse's thoracic cavity, earning a scream from the man.

"YOUR fault I joined Homra, _YOUR_ fault that I left- YOUR FAULT I'M LIKE THIS." Misaki doesn't know what to do, he has to calm this man down- he has to calm his ex-best friend done.

"You're right."

Saruhiko stops, crazed eyes looking at him with a furious anger and a softness that makes the ginger almost tear up. For a minute, all is quiet- the only things you hear are the sparks fly from Munakata and Mikoto's deadly fight. Even Izumo and Seri stop to witness this, and it's Awashima who starts taking a run towards them.

"You're lying."

It's that soft voice that rips Misaki's heart from his chest and he starts to think if Saruhiko's gone delusional- because he doesn't believe him at all. "No, I'm not. You're right- I let you down as a friend." Misaki's throat hitches and bobs and he knows what he has to do for Saruhiko.

He slowly starts to realize his wrongs, and the shocked face of Saruhiko suddenly turns to him. He drops the daggers he's holding and suddenly he's actually walking towards Misaki in a tentative step. That grip tightens on his bat as Misaki takes a foot off his skateboard and starts walking too. Their pace matches as Saruhiko speaks in an excited voice that still puts Misaki on edge.

"W…We can go back to how everything was? You know, I can read your mind- it says you're telling the truth now." Misaki closes his eyes because the tears sting him harder than the figurative dagger that slams into his beating heart. They get closer and he can hear footsteps running towards them. Misaki raises his arms, as if he's stepping into the batter's box, ready to hit a fast ball. He closes his eyes when Saruhiko speaks again.

"_Misaki_… oh Misaki… I… _I just love you so much_- I didn't know how to get your attenti-"

It's Misaki's bat that cuts his words off, that slams into the side of Saruhiko's head so hard that the bluet slams right into the concrete- causing another sickening crack to echo the sort of quiet battle field. Misaki's grip is so tight on his hands that his nails are causing blood to run from his hand as he watches Saruhiko lie there, unmoving and staining red.

Misaki drops to his knees in front of the corpse, because he realizes that he played more than just a little part in Saruhiko's life, he was his only friend and he _betrayed_ his only friend- he had no intention too, but this was the cause. He was the one who had to put him down, it was Misaki's own two hands that swung the bat that shattered two different parts of that beautiful skull he once loved.

He's never cried harder, and he knows he has to clean up Saruhiko's mess- and he doesn't mind at all.


	2. Where is Happiness? (Bonus)

He owes this much to him, and he promised that he'd fulfill it all.

He had done it. He had done something he always bragged to the other members, something that he had promised Mikoto-san. Done something that he thought would cure all of his problems, cure his hatred and cure his own suffering.

He killed Fushimi Saruhiko, the traitor of Homra.

The ginger still can't believe it, in fact it feels like a dream and any minute now he'll awaken and Saru will be right next to him. Be right next to him, telling him that it was just a fever dream- but he never comes back.

The cause of death was a cerebral hemorrhage, his skull had actually shattered and pierced his brain- if he would have survived he probably would have been brain dead. This was better, Misaki reminded himself, because Saru was finally not suffering. That's what he tells himself, at least, as the ginger sits on the HOMRA bar couch, eyes still wet from what seems to be hours on end.

It's only been a few days, a few days since that devastating crack that took the life of someone so dear to him. Everyone in Homra has noticed the commander's entire being after that day… After he had to kill Fushimi…

Everyone notices that aura Misaki has, the destroyed aura of a man who had been so in love- but love had been clouded by false hate- and now he was shattered. Shattered like the skull of Saruhiko, shattered like the sanity of Saruhiko and shattered like the broken heart he had caused.

He stands up suddenly, fists clenched and anger and unhappiness bubbling over. Tears ran down his face as he just looked up at the ceiling, and he screamed.

—-

The next day, Misaki announces to everyone in Homra that he will be planning Saruhiko's funeral. Most ask where in the hell he's going to get the money from- and that's when Izumo comes in. "Well, ya cud go t'Sceptor4 'n get his will." Will? Misaki blinked for a minute, before understanding what it was. Was Saruhiko even old enough to have a will? Well, he had to go see.

He's out the door within a second.

When he gets to the building, he just skates on in- uncaring if he's causing a ruckus. The ginger gets himself lost on three occasions, until he ends up kicking open the door- seeing Munakata Reisi just to the side. Immediately he stormed in, causing the Blue King to raise an eyebrow, interest definitely piqued.

"Well, if it isn't Yata-chan. What do you need?"

"Cut the bullshit, did Saru have a will?" He asks, no he demands as Munakata just puts his teacup down.

"So loud… so demanding… What did he see in you?" Munakata sighs and Misaki's confused by the last statement. "You want his will? For _what_?"

"For his fucking funeral- dumbass!" Misaki spits, uncaring if he's speaking to the Commander of Sceptor4 and the Blue King in such a tone. He doesn't care anymore- he wants this will and that's the end of that. Saruhiko deserves a burial, he _deserves_ this.

"I was unaware that Saruhiko would be given a funeral-"

"_DON'T FUCKING USE HIS NAME SO FREELY._"

Silence fills the room, Misaki's voice still sort of echoing throughout and Munakata's just taken aback. It was quiet, too quiet as Misaki furrowed his brows and scrunched his nose, a sign that he truly angered by this situation. Angrily, the ginger slammed his hands onto the others desk, causing that teacup to rattle- but not tip. "You _will_ give me whatever documents I need for this funeral."

A grin appeared on Munakata's face, one that could be mixed with malice and entertainment. "Then I wish to help, considering you're young and have probably never planned one before." Misaki groans, bites at his lip as he just looks away unamused. "Hell no, you bastard. You're not Homra."

"A shame indeed, I am able to get his legal information- if that what you came here for. However, I wish to be involved."

Misaki bites the bullet, because without that information there will be no funeral- Saruhiko will just be thrown into the ground- forgotten like the quiet individual Misaki knows. Finally, finally, after discussing the very strict terms Yata has set up- he agrees to let Munakata help.

—-

This is the worst decision of his life.

Firstly, Munakata thinks he knows Saruhiko- and he fucking doesn't. The bastard calls him Saruhiko as if they've been best fucking friends forever, and that irritates the ginger. Secondly, he assumes too much of Saruhiko- saying that the other would want a large funeral service and Misaki just rolls his eyes and immediately clicks his tongue.

"Hell no, Saru never had a lot of friends- no one'll fuckin' show!"

Munakata just chuckles to himself, and the idea is thrown out of the window- thank god. They're onto another topic now, the burial- and it was getting controversial. Misaki is about three seconds from ripping that damnable King's throat out- and Munakata can definitely feel the tension and anger he's causing the little animal.

"Like I said, and fuckin' states- we're burying him alone!"

"But would he not feel better next to his parents?"

"Are you fucking STUPID?! He hated them- he deserves to have his will followed!

"But if Saruhiko is buried all alone, then he will just be reminded that no one even bothered to care for him." Munakata retorts, glasses flashing as he stares right into those shocked orange eyes and Misaki is stunned, to say the least.

It takes Akiyama, Benzou and Awashima to pull the Homra Commander off the Blue King.

—-

Two days later, Misaki is standing in a small funeral home thoroughly disappointed and shocked. He had sent out some invitations to some of Saruhiko's teachers and employers- telling them of his passing. He had even passed out some messages to some members of Sceptor4, and right now he was standing there, still so shocked.

In total there were eleven people who showed up.

The ginger couldn't even believe this- at first he was just so fucking angry and he couldn't even believe the gall of some people. Sure, he had only told the members of Homra who hadn't known Saruhiko not to come- but this was just fucking ridiculous.

And then it made Misaki realize on how much Saruhiko depended on it. How much Saruhiko just wanted to stay by his side- it wasn't like he was socially awkward. He chose not to get close to people- spilled his heart open to Misaki and yet he stabbed him, stabbed him right in that heart.

God the guilt hurts.

Misaki is the one to give the eulogy, talking to the small crowd about Saruhiko's upbringing, his lonely upbringing and how he found comfort and solace with his best friend Misaki. The only person he ever got close too, the only person that he even bothered to smile for.

By the time he's just trying, trying to finish the eulogy- that's where he breaks down. The strong Misaki, that strong persona that he's been portraying for days on end breaks like his whole heart does. At first, Izumo seems like the one to get up- but Mikoto stops him. Because Misaki just fixes his posture and continues through the thick tears and cracking voice.

Saruhiko is buried away from his family, in a small part of the cemetery that no one visits- or at least used too. Long after he's lowered, Misaki just stands and watches- maybe it's starting to sink in now. Literately sink in as he watches that casket get lowered in he's reminded about how much fun Saruhiko was- when they were rebelling at least. With that nonchalant face and ridiculously attitude, he would be the one to suggest what they did, where they went, who they bothered.

Hours later, when everyone else has just seemed to disperse, Misaki is still there- staring at the gravestone of his best friend. He's cried so hard, cried so much that his tears have dried but his throat still acts like he's shedding the salty water. He swallows any words when Mikoto and Izumo approach- worry in both their eyes.

"Yata…?" Izumo asks tentatively- although Mikoto just shoots him a look. A specific one- one that Izumo had been sent when Totsuka had died. Slowly, the blonde backed away- Misaki hadn't even flinched when he spoke to him. Sighing, they decided to leave Misaki- leave him be.

Because now that Misaki was missing his better half, it would take more than a family to earn back what he lost: a lover.


End file.
